


Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

by liroa15



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:51:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22168294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liroa15/pseuds/liroa15
Summary: This year, there's a German Christmas Market in Edmonton. Leon wants to take his boyfriend.
Relationships: Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid
Comments: 2
Kudos: 67





	Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

Leon can’t help but feel somewhat excited when he sees the ad. The ad claims it’s going to be an authentic Christmas market, which Leon’s sure that’s a lie, but anything is better than nothing and right now all they have in Edmonton is malls, and it’s not remotely the same.

His excitement is dampened somewhat by the hours, which aren’t exactly a lot or very convenient, but they’re in town for at least some of them and Leon is determined to go. Connor grumbles when Leon asks him about it, but he agrees to go in the end.

“But I’m leaving as soon as someone recognizes me,” Connor grumbles. “I don’t want to spend all night signing autographs.” 

“Wear a hat then,” Leon grumbles. “No one’s going to recognize you with that terrible beard anyway.”

Which a lie. People in Edmonton recognize Connor no matter what, but at least they seem to leave him along more if it seems like he’s trying not to be recognized.

Connor bitches and whines about it, but Connor bitches and whines about anything that isn’t sitting on his couch or hanging with the boys. He likes being with people who treat him like a normal human being, and Leon can’t really blame him for that. 

The weather isn’t half bad, especially for Edmonton in December, on the Thursday that Leon decides they’re going. Connor grumbles some more and makes him stop for coffee as they meander through downtown, following the map on Leon’s phone.

“This was a stupid idea,” Connor says as they stop in front of the office building that is apparently hosting the market. Privately, Leon’s starting to agree with him. They stand out in their sweats and hoodies like a sore thumb, but thankfully the businessmen and women that surround them are all too important to bother them.

“Come on,” Leon says, motioning toward the door as another businessman on his phone jostles him. 

The look Connor gives him speaks volumes. Leon soldiers on, heading toward the desk he assumes is the entrance.

The chipper woman at the desk explains that entry costs five dollars or a donation to the food bank, and Leon obligingly hands over a twenty and receives a paper wristband. The woman puts one on Connor too after a second’s hesitation, probably because of the scowl on Connor’s face. She doesn’t seem to have any clue who they are, which Leon is going to rub in Connor’s face at the first available opportunity.

The market itself isn’t every big. They could walk from one end to the other in five minutes, probably. There’s a bunch of little stalls with mugs and jewelry and wine for sale, and Leon stops to look at a couple of things, buys a necklace for his sister and a couple of the handmade mugs for his place. Connor watches him move from stall to stall with poorly concealed irritation, but he seems to relax a little when no one recognizes them. He even stops to look at some of the socks with funny patterns on them that have become so popular as of late. He buys a pair with otters on them, and Leon knows instinctively that they’re going to wind up in Chicago with Stromer. 

“All right, it’s pretty cool,” Connor mumbles as they move past someone selling children’s books and another stall selling what looks like pet food and outside. There’s a little beer garden set up, mostly selling cider and hot chocolate, with a couple of fire pits and some blankets. Leon goes to order for both of them, ignoring Connor’s look of judgment. 

They have Glühwein on offer, and Leon orders two even though he’s sure he’s going to be disappointed. 

“What’s this?” Connor asks when Leon gives him the cup. 

“Glühwein,” Leon replies. “Very traditional for German Christmas. It’s wine, but it has other things in it, orange and some spice.” Leon’s been in North America for long enough that his English doesn’t often let him down, but he doesn’t know the word he wants. “Zimt,” he says in frustration.

Connor brings up Google translate on his phone and makes Leon spell it. “Cinnamon,” he says, taking the plastic cup from Leon. 

Connor makes a face at the first sip, never having acquired much of a taste for wine. Leon manages to contain himself to a smile, knowing that Connor doesn’t take to being teased very well.

A little further around, there’s a stall selling bratwurst, and since they’re both hungry after practice, Leon orders two. He slaps away Connor’s money and pays for them himself and then spends way too long considering the condiments available. 

Eventually, they both head over to one of the fires, where Connor sets down his cup and manages to spread a blanket over the bench. It’s a tight fit, but they squeeze in together, shoulders pressed together and thighs touching. It’s intimate, like they’re the only two people in the world, even though there’s people moving past them constantly.

The bratwurst is actually pretty good, and Leon’s hungry, so he devours it in about four bites. Connor finishes his in a similar time, and then grabs one of the sticks sitting by the fire and the open bag of marshmallows. 

“I don’t know if you can do that,” Leon says.

“Who’s going to stop me?” Connor replies like the total shit that he is. He’s actually pretty good at roasting marshmallows, it turns out, because he pulls the first one off the stick a moment later, golden brown and gooey. 

He offers it to Leon, who takes it despite his better judgment, licking the last of the melted marshmallow off Connor’s fingers. He doesn’t even protest when Connor leans over and kisses him, although they both know better. 

Connor roasts a couple more marshmallows before deciding he’s had enough, and this time he lets Leon take it off the stick like a normal human.

It’s getting busier though. A guy with a guitar has set up in the little tent that’s clearly functioning as a stage, and there are more people wandering around now.

“We should probably go,” Connor mumbles, draining the last of the glühwein, and tossing the cup in the nearest garbage bin.

“Yeah,” Leon agrees. He gathers up the rest of their garbage and finishes his own glass, and then he and Connor are heading back through the stalls. 

Connor stops to look at a couple more things, but they’re starting to get second looks from people, and it’s probably only the fact that no one expects to see the Oilers’s two biggest stars that’s preventing them from anyone actually coming up to them.

“That was fun,” Connor says when they make it back to the parkade under Rogers Place. 

“Yeah,” Leon agrees. “It was pretty great, huh?”

“Get in the car and stop gloating,” Connor says, hitting unlock on his remote car starter. Connor hesitates though, which is unusual. Leon’s about to ask him what’s wrong when Connor darts over and presses another kiss to his lips. 

“Thank you,” he says when he pulls back. 

Leon’s not exactly sure what Connor’s thanking him for, but he’s also not stupid enough to push it. “Anytime, babe,” he says.

Connor laughs. “You’re so full of shit,” he says, climbing into his SUV. Leon gets into the passenger seat and then reaches around to put his purchases in the back. 

“It was a good time,” he says, mostly to himself but loud enough to be heard.

“The very best,” Connor agrees. 

fin.

**Author's Note:**

> So the market did exist, and it was a lot of fun. One German lady told us that the bratwurst was better than anything she'd had in Canada, almost like home. I wanted to have this done a lot sooner, so like, let's just pretend I haven't completely missed the holiday.


End file.
